


Hold You in the Palm of My Hand

by aprettyaway



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingering, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 15:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprettyaway/pseuds/aprettyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As with most of their sexual adventures, it’s Harry who makes it a thing, who brings it up as something they should do. It’s not that Niall doesn’t want it, it just doesn’t occur to him to do something different until Harry murmurs, “Could you pull my hair, please?” or shyly asks if Niall would mind maybe using a vibrator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold You in the Palm of My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I think I’m doing this fandom all wrong because I totally didn’t even take Harry/Niall seriously until very, very recently, but then I saw this post on tumblr that said they hated Narry because it was 98% of the fandom. Which confused me. And then another post said that Niall always bottomed. So I’m apparently doing that wrong as well because I totally think of Harry bottoming (mostly because I think of Harry as inherently submissive but that’s a whole other story). So, yeah. 
> 
> Also, I put orgasm delay and dom/sub as warnings, but this is like the beginners sort - nothing intense at all, really.
> 
> This is poorly edited, because I'm lazy.
> 
> Also, I'm at aprettyaway.tumblr.com if anyone's interested.

Niall wakes up to Harry sprawled over him with octopus limbs, a raging hard on, and no time to do anything about it, even though Harry’s already leisurely rocking against Niall’s morning wood.

A soft groan escapes Niall’s lips, because the bed is warm, and Harry is the best blanket, and he feels nice and aroused and basically never wants to leave. He lifts one hand to stroke Harry’s back, causing the other boy to snuggle in closer.

But then Louis starts slamming on the door, howling about how they’ve only fifteen minutes before the bus is due to take them to the concert venue. Niall groans into Harry’s curls. They don’t often get to stay in a hotel room, and although Niall knows they’ll be back for one more night after that day’s concert, he’s still disappointed at their inability to capitalize on their private time that morning. The boys are generally good about letting Harry and Niall have the big bed in the bus, but it’s not the same.

“I’ll make it up to you later,” Harry murmurs into Niall’s ear, his voice deep and still raspy from sleep, before rolling off of him and calling out to Louis, “We’re coming!”

Niall groans at the loss of Harry’s body heat, squeezing his eyes shut for a long moment before rolling out of the bed. His eyes linger on Harry’s back as the other boy stretches, completely naked with his arms fully extended above his head. Harry’s the most obviously grown out of all of them, since they’ve met. It makes sense, as he’s the youngest. Sometimes Niall forgets, though, just how tall Harry is. Or how he actually has muscles now, and none of the lingering baby fat in his cheeks or hips that he had at sixteen.

Sometimes Harry forgets, too, or else he just misses the way he used to slide into the crevices of Niall’s body like the missing piece of the puzzle. At any rate, he still loves to duck down and bury his face into Niall’s neck. He’ll bend his knees to fit just how he likes, even though really he’s too tall for it now. When they sleep cuddled together, it’s always with Niall as the big spoon or with Harry tucked into his side, his head resting on Niall’s shoulder.

When Niall refocuses his attention, Harry has turned towards him, an impish grin on his face.

“Oh, bugger off,” Niall complains, even though Harry hasn’t said anything. He crawls off the bed and pulls on his discarded gym shorts from the day before over his briefs. It hardly matters what he wears – he’ll be manhandled into submission as soon as they got to the concert venue.

Harry ambles towards the bathroom, yawning, and Niall watches him go with a put upon sigh. He and Harry hardly ever get to have a real morning sleep-in anymore.  They didn’t even do anything the night before. Niall was in the mood a bit, but Harry looked exhausted, spent most of the last couple hours of the bus ride half-asleep, lying on the couch with his head in Niall’s lap as Niall leisurely played with his hair. Playing with Harry’s hair either lulls him to sleep or turns him on like mad, and there’s really no telling which it will be on any given day.

The point is, Niall refrained from even handies in the shower. Instead, he opted to just soothingly shampoo Harry’s hair with the latter’s eyes drooping the entire time. And then they crawled into bed, asleep almost immediately.

It was satisfying, but Niall was hoping for a different sort of satisfaction in the morning.

By the time Niall’s got his cut-off and snapback firmly in place, Harry’s finally slipped into his briefs, brushing his teeth. Niall balls up one of Harry’s shirts and throws it at his head.

“Get dressed, you exhibitionist,” Niall teases.

Harry grins cheekily and obeys.

\----

In all fairness, Harry is usually very good at making things up to Niall, and this time is no different.

Their sound check goes as seamlessly as can be expected, leaving them with a bit of free time before they have to start getting ready. Liam leaves pretty quickly to go fit a work-out in to their sliver of free time, Zayn has plans to call Perrie, and Louis starts recruiting people for a pick up game of footie.

Niall is about to agree to join when he spots the look of disappointment on Harry’s face. Slowly, Niall leans back, closing his mouth and letting Louis move on to badger Cal about it. A slow smile spreads across Harry’s face, his tongue sneaking out to wet his bottom lip. He tilts his head slowly towards the side, in the direction of their dressing room. It isn’t very subtle at all, but Niall grins and nods nonetheless, waiting a couple of seconds after Harry leaves before he gets up to follow.

“I’ll just give Perrie a call outside, shall I?” Zayn suggests, giving Niall a knowing look. Niall grins and winks.

Harry isn’t in the dressing room, but they’ve done this enough times at other venues that Niall can guess well enough where he is. Sure enough, when Niall opens the bathroom door, there is Harry, head bent over his mobile. His head snaps up when Niall opens the door, and Niall feels something constrict in his stomach, watching a slow grin spread across Harry’s face.

“Is this where you make it up to me?” Niall asks teasingly, pulling Harry closer by the belt loops on his skintight black jeans.

Harry’s still grinning as he leans in and says cheekily against Niall’s lips, “Maybe.”

Niall closes the distance easily, reaching one hand up to grasp Harry at the nape of his neck, so as to more easily maneuver him. He keeps the kiss light, just barely brushing their lips. It’s easy for the two of them to get caught up in kissing – maybe because it’s not a casual thing they can do anywhere, like other couples can – and they really don’t have time for it.

Aware of time ticking away, Niall pulls away, resisting Harry’s attempts to follow his lips. Harry frowns, a little pout forming on his lips and eyebrows furrowed. Harry tries, sometimes, to look upset or irritated, but mostly he just ends up being cute. Niall massages the back of Harry’s neck just a little to appease him, watching the expression on Harry’s face slacken slightly.

“What did you have in mind?” Niall asks, because he’s just a little evil, and he likes making Harry talk when he’s like this, aroused and pliant.

“I just- can I suck you, please?” Harry asks. He’s so close that Niall can feel the sounds rumbling in his chest.  

That’s another one of the things Harry likes – asking Niall for permission. Niall likes it, too, but as with most things it’s Harry who makes it a _thing_ , who brings it up as something they should do. It’s not that Niall doesn’t want it, it just doesn’t occur to him to do something different until Harry murmurs, “Could you pull my hair, please?” or shyly asks if Niall would mind maybe using a vibrator.

At first, it made Niall worried, concerned that maybe he wasn’t enough. But Harry was quick to assure Niall that it wasn’t like that – that Harry only feels comfortable doing new things with Niall. And there have been lots of new things, since they’ve decided to be together exclusively. Niall isn’t sure whether this is what he’d be doing if it weren’t for Harry, but he’s glad this is the way it worked out all the same.

“Alright, then,” Niall agrees. “Don’t have much time.”

Harry slowly gets to his knees, leaning in to mouth at the obvious bulge under Niall’s clothes. Harry inhales slightly, smiling as he nuzzles his nose closer and mumbles practically onto Niall’s covered prick, “I’ll be quick.”

“ _I’ll_ be quick, you mean,” Niall teases. Harry laughs, looking up at Niall through his curls. Niall reaches down to unbutton his shorts, and then Harry’s back on focusing on Niall’s cock, which is hardening already. They really don’t have the time that Harry usually likes to take, so Harry wastes no time in pulling down the band of Niall’s briefs and leaning in to mouth carefully at his shaft with big, open-mouthed kisses.

Niall sighs, leaning back and bracing himself with one hand on the counter. His other hand rests on Harry’s head, cradling it as Harry sighs, his entire body relaxing. He lifts up one hand to stroke Niall and moves straight to the head of his cock, licking it slowly with the flat of his tongue.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Niall mumbles. Harry seems to perk at the praise, swallowing more of Niall down, but not so much he chokes. He starts bobbing up and down just slightly, his hand working Niall’s shaft. Niall bites his fist, head bowed as he subdues a groan and tries to resist thrusting into Harry’s mouth.

As if he knows exactly what’s going on in Niall’s mind, Harry pulls off, spit trailing from the angry red tip of Niall’s dick to Harry’s equally red lips. Before Niall can even make his dissatisfaction known, Harry’s ducking down, planting wet, open kisses onto his balls. Niall makes a bit of a noise, squirming a bit because it’s _sensitive_ down there. He can feel Harry’s lips forming a smile as they suckle gently, one hand coming up to hold onto Niall’s hips. He couldn’t keep Niall from thrusting up if Niall really wanted to, but the firm reminder of Harry’s hand helps. Harry’s other hand is still stroking Niall’s cock, familiar enough that he knows just where the most sensitive places are – that one vein on the underside, the area just behind the head. Niall loves Harry’s hands, how big they are. How they know exactly what they’re doing. They seem sort of like hands that would play piano, although Niall knows nothing about piano, and Harry probably isn’t coordinated enough to be any good at it.

Niall slides his fingers through Harry’s hair, because Harry likes it but also to speed up the process a bit. Harry gets the hint, licking his lips before closing his lips around the shiny head of Niall’s cock, slowly going farther and farther down on Niall’s dick.

Harry can’t deep throat him – well, he _can_ , just not while they’re on tour and singing every night – so they’ve both gotten good at figuring out exactly how far they can go. Harry, especially, is good at using his tongue and his lips to make Niall’s knees go weak. And it’s even hotter to see how worked up Harry is – his watery, wide eyes and flushed cheeks and the obvious bulge in his trousers.

Niall’s just reached that point where he can feel the slow build-up, the steady increase in pleasure that’s guaranteed to end in an orgasm, when he hears the voices. They’re out in the hallway, but Niall can hear them coming closer. He panics just slightly, hand tightening in Harry’s hair as the boy hollows out his cheeks and sucks hard, making Niall choke back a moan.

The door is locked, but if people come into the dressing room there’s no way for them to _not_ see Harry and Niall coming out. The important people, they don’t mind – the boys and Lou and Paul and Cal – but there are always random people they don’t know. And none of the boys are around to run decoy.

“Harry, we have to – shit,” Niall groans, choking back the sounds as best he can as one of Harry’s hands cups his balls, the warm touch tantalizing and propelling him even closer to release. Niall just, he needs to come, it won’t take long.

But shit, the voices are getting closer. Niall tries to squirm away – or closer, fuck he doesn’t even know – but Harry’s hands squeeze his hips a little, not really pinning him, but reminding Niall to stay still. And it isn’t like Niall _really_ wants Harry to stop. Niall’s done that before – stopped Harry right in the middle, not because they were in danger of being caught, but just to see Harry’s red, shiny lips and flushed cheeks, to listen to him whine and watch him palm himself needily through his trousers. He could do it if he wanted, right now, but he doesn’t, not when Harry’s hollowing his cheeks and running his tongue right over that sensitive spot–

Niall groans, biting his fist as he comes, hips jerking forward against his will as Harry swallows his come with practiced ease. When he pulls back, Niall’s red faced and panting, still. Harry grins cheekily, licking his lips even though he didn’t miss a drop the first time around.

Niall rights his briefs and shorts, glancing worriedly at the door. He can still hear voices, but then over that rises Lux’s distressed cries. There’s a bit of scuffling, and then silence.

They should be fine, but – Niall glances down at Harry, who’s still on his knees, his hard-on prominent between his legs. “Christ,” he breathes, “that was-”

“S’fine,” Harry says breathlessly. His cheeks are flushed and his hairline is a little sweaty. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and stands up. “It’s just Lou and Lux, I think.”

“You sure?” Niall asks worried.

Harry chuckles. “I think I was a bit less distracted than you. And anyways, if it’s someone else, we’ll just say we’re pranking the boys by switching the soap, or something.”

“Alright,” Niall agrees. Harry seems, well, rather blasé about all of this. Especially considering… “You want me to…” Niall gestures down at Harry’s dick in his trousers, still more than half hard. He always gets hard from sucking Niall off. Usually Niall is really good about at least giving him a hand job to help him along. Or sometimes he watches as Harry finishes by himself, still on his knees. But Lou’s right through the door, and people will start to be looking for them.

Harry stares down at his crotch, chewing his lip. He glances at the door. “I don’t...”

“You can be quiet, can’t you?” Niall says easily, but with that undertone that Harry doesn’t argue with. Niall backs Harry up so that hhis back is up against the sink before deftly unbuttoning Harry’s pants and pulling his cock out.

Harry exhales, tilting his head back in relief.

“There we go,” Niall encourages, running his thumb over the head. Harry isn’t going to take long, he’s so worked up already.

Niall’s only gotten about two good strokes in when they’re interrupted by Lou banging on the door of the bathroom. “Haz, not to _interrupt_ , but Lux and I need the toilet.”

“Shit,” Niall mutters. He stares down at Harry’s cock in his hand – he’s hard, but there’s no way to make Harry come and clean up fast enough. Harry’s panting, letting out the tiniest of whimpers as Niall removes his hand.

Harry swallows, running a hand through his hair before grinning. He looks unusually unbothered by the raging hard on that he’s going to have to force back into his skinny jeans. “You’ll get me later, yeah?”

Niall laughs in disbelief, still out of breath.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he breathes, and Harry glows.

Niall hastily rights himself as best he can, Harry straightens out his hair (and his cock), and they both try not to blush and grin too much when they open the door and face Lou’s knowing gaze.

Really, there’s _no_ privacy on tour.

\----

The rest of the day is… interesting. They don’t have time for Niall to get Harry off, because there’s the meet-and-greet, and hair and make-up, and by that time Harry’s watching Lux and backstage is crawling with fans that have VIP passes. Niall feels bad, so after they’ve both gotten hair and make-up done, Niall corners Harry in between two racks of clothes. In theory, they are supposed to be choosing what to wear, but Harry doesn’t resist when Niall backs him up against the wall. Instead, Harry sort of sinks down a bit, and ducks down instinctively to let Niall kiss him.

Harry’s lips are boyish in the way that Niall likes – soft but a bit chapped, manly but easy to dominate. Niall always gets a funny feeling in his stomach when he sees Harry with one of his old flames (Caroline Flack is the worst, because Harry was absolutely gutted when she ended it), but he is thankful that they taught Harry all they have, because he’s an ace kisser.

It must be because he’s come not to long ago, but Niall keeps the kiss soft and lazy, hands gently resting on Harry’s waist. So he’s somewhat taken off guard when Harry undulates his hips, hissing when his very, very hard cock presses up against Niall’s thigh.

“Fuck, you alright?” Niall asks, throat dry. He swallows. “Have you been like this all this time?”

Harry’s cheeks turn a bit red, and he mumbles, “Sorry, s’hard,”

Unable to help himself, Niall reaches down and covertly gives Harry a quick fondle. He teases into Harry’s ear, “ _Something’s_ certainly hard.”

Harry whines, canting his hips forward again. He squeezes his eyes shut. “You know I like sucking you off.”

Niall feels abruptly even worse than before, for leaving Harry unsatisfied. “I can-”

To his shock, Harry shakes his head, face bowed down so that Niall can’t exactly see the look on his face. He can guess well enough, though.

“You like this, then?” he asks quietly into Harry’s ear. He grins at the hitch in Harry’s breath, and continues, “D’you like me leaving you hard after you’ve made me come?”

“Niall,” Harry whimpers, voice low. Niall grins into the bit of skin behind Harry’s ear. It’s so easy to get Harry worked up, with just a couple of words.

“Yeah, babe, is this what you like?”

Harry doesn’t answer, just buries his head into Niall’s shoulder and clings to him tight.

Now that he’s started, he can’t stop. “Want me to leave you like this until after the show, hard and desperate? You going to go on stage like that, let everyone see how much you want me?”

Harry releases a full-bodied shudder. His lips are parted, pressed against Niall’s skin and exhaling hotly.

Niall knows that Harry likes Niall to boss him around a bit, likes Niall to be a bit pushy, but this is new and Niall just wants to make sure. So before he lets go, he asks, “You alright, really? I could get you off real quick, if you need it before the show.”

Harry swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. He shakes his head just a bit and mumbles, “No, I- I like this. I want to wait for you. If that’s okay?”

“Christ,” Niall breaths, heat pools in his stomach, and he never even knew this was a thing for him, before. “That’s hot.”

A slow smiles spreads across Harry’s face.

“We have to pick out our outfits,” Niall reminds Harry.

Reluctantly, Harry nods and releases his grip on Niall. He’s chewing on his lip, making it even more red and agitated.

“Go on,” Niall orders, gesturing to the racks with the shirts that are obviously for Harry, because he looks a bit lost. Hearing Niall’s directive, something seems to focus in him. Harry obeys without question, leafing through the shirts as Niall does the same.

By the time Niall’s found a cut-off he’s fond of, Harry has two shirts in his hands, the typical black ensemble he’s come to love, and a red one.

“I like the red one,” Niall offers blandly. Harry glances behind at Niall, shivering slightly before wordlessly putting the black shirt back. He smiles shyly at Niall, still chewing his lip. That’s another thing Harry likes, when Niall choses his clothes. Not all of the time, but every once and awhile.

With Harry taken care of, Niall turns to the rack labeled with his name. He picks a shirt at random and deciding it’ll do.

They have a show, after all.

\----

By the time the show is over, Harry is vibrating with need. His pupils are blown and trained on Niall not only the entire concert but until they get into the van, when Harry can snuggle up against Niall and sigh contentedly when Niall puts his hand soothingly on Harry’s upper thigh. There will probably be pictures and videos all over the internet tomorrow about Harry’s odd behavior, the way he was more handsy and clingy than usual.

When they get to the hotel, Harry doesn’t even go to his own room, choosing instead to slip his hand in Niall’s as soon as they’re in the elevator, pressing up to Niall’s side. Niall shivers, feeling Harry’s curls brush against his neck as Harry buries his face into Niall’s shoulder. Louis gives Niall a good-natured wink as he takes off towards his room.

“Alright?” Niall asks, as he leads Harry off of the elevator.

Harry hums contentedly, even though Niall can feel how hard he is, and it can’t be comfortable. He managed to control it for the show, but by the time they were changing out of their last outfits, Harry was hard in his pants, enough that Liam blushed and Zayn whistled lowly. His chest was heaving and his face was flushed, both from the exertion of the concert and his want.

Niall liked it – liked watching Harry and thinking about how he had been happy to just suck Niall off without getting anything out of it. Liked that Niall was sated and relaxed while Harry was tense and wound up, still.

Niall fumbles with the hotel room key before swinging the door open. The entire room is in a disarray, which is generally what happens when the boys get to stay in a hotel for more than one night, a rare luxury on tour. As soon as the door is shut, Harry is attached to Niall, mouthing at his neck.

“Niall,” Harry asks lowly, even though they’re alone now. “Can you fuck me now, please?”

“Don’t you want a shower first, babe?” Niall asks, partly because they do need to shower but mostly because he wants to make Harry wait a little longer.

“We could do that after.”

Niall laughs. “You won’t shower afterwards, Haz, you’ll fall right asleep. Lazy.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Harry pouts.

Patting Harry on the arse, Niall grins and says, “C’mon, babe. I’ll wash your hair again.”

Harry still looks less-than-pleased, but obediently shucks his pants and trousers before sauntering to the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it on the floor as he goes. Niall grins at the sign of Harry’s arse swaying back and forth.

Hearing the shower turn on, Niall takes his time, putting his mobile and snapback on the nightstand and then fishing through his duffle for their lube. Upon successfully finding it, he sheds his clothes and walks towards the bathroom.

Niall has this low thrum of anticipation in him, like this is something new and exciting. It’s new and exciting already, really – Niall’s been thinking about Harry all day. How he worked to make Niall come and then got nothing in return. It’s really a heady feeling. Like, Niall has the power to deny him his chance at an orgasm. Not even because they were rushed for time, really, but just because it’s Harry, and he’s given Niall the privilege of doing that.

The thought makes Niall’s cock twitch at the same time that it also makes his heart constrict in an odd, familiar way. He hesitates at the bathroom door for a moment, the steam and the sound of running water escaping through the crack. Swallowing, Niall pushes the door the rest of the way open.

It’s a nice bathroom, as are most of the ones in their hotel suites. It’s all white marble, with two sinks and a big Jacuzzi bath that it’s a shame they’ve not had the chance to use. In the corner is a shower that could probably fit five people. The door is all glass, and although it’s fogging up a bit, the view inside is clear enough.

Harry’s already acquainted himself with the shower, his curls plaster to his head and water running down his back. Niall has the perfect view, of Harry supporting his weight against the side of the shower with one hand, of his arse sticking out, and of Harry reaching around, fingering himself under the shower spray It’s probably only one finger, because Harry is shy and tentative about fingering himself. But it’s the principle of the thing, really.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be starting without me,” Niall chides him. Harry stares at Niall reproachfully, but stops fingering himself nonetheless.

“Niall, come _on_ ,” Harry whines.

“Turn around now,” Nially says, and Harry does so immediately. Niall never feels like he’s very good at bossing people around, but Harry obeys well enough for both of them.

He doesn’t waste time teasing – this isn’t the main event of the evening by bar – just spreads Harry’s arse cheeks, one in each hand, and ducks in to lick a long stripe up Harry’s crack with his tongue.

“Oh, shit.” Harry groans, knees almost buckling. He arches his back obscenely. “Yes, more – fuck, _please_.”

Niall grins up against Harry’s rim, kissing it and suckling. He pulls back slightly to circle his rim with his tongue, causing Harry’s most intimate muscles to expand and contract, overwhelmed by the sensation.

“Niall,” Harry whimpers, arching his back. “Niall, more please, don’t stop, please, _please_ -”

Harry’s rambling continues, interspersed with choked moans and long, drawn-out whimpers. Niall doesn’t stop, using both hands to pry Harry’s cheeks apart and licking deep and long at his hole before sucking on it in like an obscene kiss. It’s one of those weird things that Niall never really thought of before Harry, never even considered enjoying it. But he does, loves the way Harry reacts and loves how sensitive he is.

Niall notices out of the corner of his eye as Harry reaches for his straining, pulsating cock. Quick as lightening, he grips Harry’s wrist and knocks it away. Releasing a high, distressed whine, Harry writhes helplessly. Niall releases Harry’s hand, poking his tongue past Harry’s rim just slightly, over and over. Harry’s hand grips his thigh as if trying to ground himself, his finger nails digging into his skin as his thighs tremble.

“Niall, please, I want you to fuck me, I’ve waited so long…” Harry cuts himself off with a whimper as Niall pulls back, removing his hands simultaneously so that no part of him is touching Harry. He sits back on his haunches, regarding Harry thoughtfully as the younger boy turns to look at him, positively wrecked.

“You need to wash your hair first,” Niall reminds him blandly, licking his lips. Harry just stares at him, jaw slack, but Niall plays it cool. He stands up and reaches for the shampoo, squeezing a dollop onto his palm and massaging the suds through his own hair. He ignores his cock, which has come to full attention just from playing with Harry, helplessly aroused by Harry’s noises and taste. Harry eventually follows suit, massaging the shampoo into his curls as Niall goes on to perfunctorily wash the rest of his body.

By the time Niall’s done, Harry’s calmed down a bit, although still wound up.  Niall grabs for the silicone lube he left on one of the shelves and slicks up two of his fingers, trailing his other hand down Harry’s back as he nudges the two lubed up fingers towards Harry’s hole.

Harry’s in the process of scrubbing soap into his skin, although he stutters to a halt at Niall’s actions. Jaw dropping, Harry turns and sinks into Niall for support, chest-to-chest and straining cocks pressed intimately together. It’s not an easy angle, and not the most practical for stretching Harry out, but Niall works with it. He widens his stance and prompts Harry to the same. His free hand settles on the expanse of Harry’s back as his other hand scissors his fingers to loosen up Harry’s pucker.

Harry buries his face into Niall’s neck, mouthing at his skin. He arches, pushing his arse back and making it easier for Niall to stretch him. Niall’s not sure if Harry ever did finish washing himself, but at this point he doesn’t much care. He pulls his fingers out of Harry and shuts off the water, telling him, “C’mon let’s dry you off.”

It’s heady, watching Harry’s breath catch hopefully as he scrambles to obey. Niall swallows, toweling himself off before helping Harry. They’re still a bit damp, and Harry’s hair is dripping, but Niall leads Harry to the bed anyways. At the press of Niall’s hand into his back, Harry crawls onto the bed.

Niall briefly toys with the idea of making Harry ride him, making him work for it, but one look at Harry, and it becomes clear that is not an option. Harry’s too far gone, eyes glazed and entire body on edge. Every muscle is tensed, yet all he can do is crawl on the bed and lie splayed out, waiting. Niall swallows, kneeling on the bed and crawling over Harry.

Harry gazes up at him with an open, guileless gaze. It makes Niall’s chest tighten even as he reaches down to push three fingers past Harry’s rim, just to make sure. Harry lets out a choked cry, and Niall just can’t make him wait any longer.

Harry’s eyes slip shut as Niall enters him, one hand supporting his weight over Harry and the other guiding his cock in. Under him, Harry exhales deeply, wiggling around a bit as if to get the best positioning. Niall bends down to press open-mouthed kisses soothingly onto Harry’s shoulder, working himself in slowly.

Niall’s dick is just a bit smaller than Harry’s, but he’s still a decent enough size that it takes Harry a few seconds to get adjusted once Niall is fully seated.

"Okay, Haz?” Niall asks breathlessly. He leans back on his knees a bit, one hand gripping Harry’s trembling thigh gently and stretching it further out to get him a better view. Harry’s eyes snap open and lock onto Niall’s. He loves looking at Harry when he’s like this – all stretched out and trembling, his cock an angry red and his pupils blown. Eyes still gazing into Niall’s, Harry nods slowly.

Niall swallows, leaning back over Harry to kiss him tenderly as he starts thrusting in and out, slow and deliberate. It feels so good, too good – Harry’s tight around his cock, his muscles pulsating around Niall. Harry mewls as Niall slowly quickens his pace, losing the rhythm in favour of going after his own pleasure. Harry’s rock hard cock bobs between them, sliding up and down Niall’s stomach.

“What if I just left you like this, huh?” Niall breathes into Harry’s ear. “What if I just came in your arse and left you like this, hard and leaking with my come. Would you like that? Would you wait until I let you come?”

Harry groans. “Niall,” he sobs, clutching onto Niall’s back, Everything is wet from their shower and sweaty from the exertion, Niall feels himself slipping, tries to tighten his grip on Harry and on the situation.

“I think that’s what you like – you like being used, used for other people’s pleasure,” Niall breathes hot into his ear, reaching one hand in-between them to clumsily stroke Harry’s cock.

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, every muscle in him tightening as he comes, nails digging into Niall’s back. Niall’s muscles are straining as he tries to stroke Harry’s dick and support himself so he can keep thrusting into him at the same time, and by the time Harry’s done he’s shaking, trying to keep going. He’s so, so close, and watching Harry come undone propels him closer to the edge.

Harry melts into the duvet, loose-limbed and compliant as Niall thrusts a few more times before coming, groaning into Harry’s shoulder and collapsing on top of the other boy. They’re both sweaty and shaky, and Niall feels Harry’s fingers card through his hair gently. Niall rolls off of Harry ungracefully, and Harry immediately curls up into Niall’s side, throwing an arm around his torso and a leg over Niall’s thighs.

“So,” Niall says as casually as he can manage, “non-reciprocation is a thing, then?”

Harry hums contentedly, his lips pressed against Niall’s collarbone.

“And you like it when I make you wait before coming, sometimes?”

At that, Harry lifts his head up, licking his lips and asking with a tremor of nervousness in his voice, “That alright?”

Of course it’s alright, because Niall is pretty sure he is physically incapable of not making Harry happy. Niall says as much, and Harry preens, looking rather satisfied with himself.

Niall narrows his eyes, lifting his head up to get a good look at Harry. “Exactly how much of today did you plan?”

Harry giggles hiding his smile by burying it in Niall’s collarbone, and Niall finds himself smiling, too.


End file.
